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If I Know One Thing

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There are worn and flimsy boxes piled around the living room, covering nearly every available space. Some of them have found their way to the bedroom, but Stiles doesn’t even know if they belong in there.

Stiles lets out a slow and steady breath.

The couch Derek brought in this morning would look inviting if only there weren’t also a mountain of boxes stacked on that as well.

He sets down the box he’s carrying in, adding to a relatively short stack by the bedroom door and checks his phone.

Two in the afternoon.

“Derek!”

It takes a minute, but Stiles can hear Derek coming up the stairs to the apartment.

“What?” Derek asks, before appearing at the door and setting two large boxes down next to Stiles.

“We missed lunch.”

“I said that an hour ago, you said you weren’t hungry.” Derek closes his eyes and stretches his neck with a crack. “We have two more and we’re done.”

“There’s still unpacking. For me.” Stiles runs a hand through his hair, wet with perspiration. “Ugh, how is it, like fifty percent of this is mine?”

“More like eighty percent,” Derek huffs. “But most of my stuff is books and you have a lot of stuff from your dad.”

“I have a lot of books, too!”

“Not a contest, Stiles.”

“Damn, we need more shelf space--do you think we can convert that wall into one large bookcase?”

Derek frowns at it, examining the dimensions. “Yeah, we could. I’d need to get Isaac to help out though.”

Stiles smiles, wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist and pulling him in for a kiss. “Look at us, making our little apartment into a home. This is surreal.”

Derek’s eyes soften as he replies, “It’s already a home because you’re here with me.”

“Oh my god, you sap, get away from me.” Stiles laughs, pushing Derek away and failing because Derek’s laughing too, and the sound draws him. Stiles’ doesn’t--can’t--fight the urge to kiss him again and again until suddenly, Derek’s pushed him to the bare mattress in their bedroom.

“We need to eat,” Stiles complains, but Derek lays on top of Stiles, licking his jawline until he reaches his ear and mumbles sickly sweet words against it.

“If I’d known,” Stiles says, “What a sap you were when you first popped out of the woods, I think things would’ve turned out differently.”

Derek’s hands reach under Stiles’ shirt. “No, you’d still have been scared of me, I’d still have found you annoying, we would still have danced a very long and frustrating dance around each other. You’d still end up loving me,” he says, mouthing against Stiles’ clavicle.

“Yeaaaah.” Stiles sucks in a breath and cants his hips up to meet Derek’s. He kisses the top of Derek’s head and then his temple, one hand sliding up and down Derek’s back and the other cupping Derek’s neck, legs wrapping around his middle.

Derek rucks up his shirt, laving his sternum with his tongue, fingers circling around his nipples but refusing to actually touch them.

Stiles moans when Derek kisses down his stomach, lingering to suckle at his navel, stopping at the close of his jeans, his fingers still rubbing softly beside his hardened nipples. The sound of it carries and Stiles remembers.

“Wait! Derekderekderek, the doors are still open, oh god we still have boxes outside DEREK!”

Derek stops and sighs, gets up. “Stay here. Take off your shirt. No touching yourself.”

“What, Derek, no, you can’t--”

“I’m going to bring the last boxes in and lock the door. It’ll be less than five minutes. No. Touching.” Derek’s eyebrows are contorted in a fashion that means business, so Stiles shuts up, but he glares as Derek walks out, and angrily strips his shirt off, waiting for him to return.

Stiles distracts himself with visions of Derek’s cock sinking into his ass. It doesn’t take long for Stiles to realize what a terrible idea that is.

“Derek...” Stiles whimpers, hands clutching at air against the mattress. Derek’s not so far that he can’t hear if Stiles cheats. Damn it.

He appears after what seems like hours--or minutes, whatever--a smirk decorating his features.

“Took you long enough, wolfman.” Stiles thrusts his hips up in the air. “Need you.”

Derek doesn’t need to be told twice, body covering Stiles within nanoseconds, kissing him within inches of his life. Fingers roam to undo Stiles’ pants and Derek kneels to pull them off along with his briefs before divesting himself of his own clothing all at once. He gets on the bed, gathering Stiles into his lap, marking up Stiles’ shoulders with small bruises.

Stiles makes note of them for later, to add to their collection count.

As Derek follows Stiles’ neckline, Stiles mouths Derek’s ear, tracing and taking in the tips, adoring every millimeter of it with his lips.and tongue.

Derek groans, shifting to give Stiles an open mouthed kiss, deep and determined with a little rut against Stiles’ cock. He slithers down and licks around the head before swallowing it half way, bobbing up and down a few times before replacing his mouth with his hand and going down on his balls.

Derek hums against him, making him buck up. Stiles writhes, legs spreading wider to accommodate Derek’s fingers stroking his perineum down to his hole. Stiles cries out when Derek starts peppering his hole with kisses and kitten licks, starts making out with it as if it were Stiles’ mouth. The first push of his tongue makes Stiles whine, but as push turns to thrust, the sounds become gradually needier until Stiles can’t take it anymore, pulls Derek up on the bed and crashes their lips and tongues together.

“You did this to me,” Stiles breathes, taking Derek’s hand and touching his wet hole with it. “Want you inside.”

Derek growls then, jumping off the bed to grab a packet from his jeans pocket.

Lube.

“Well. Someone knew what to expect on moving day,” Stiles snarks.

“Didn’t want to risk having to rifle through every single box to find it later on.”

Stiles simpers. “That’s not going to be enough though, you know that, right?”

“You’ll come so hard, we won’t need more,” Derek says, opening the lube and drizzling it all around his cock and Stiles’ hole.

Stiles moans at the sight of Derek jacking himself off and the feeling of two fingers working into him. It’s not long until Derek’s fucking him with three fingers, breathing hotly against his thigh and the crease of his pelvis.

Derek crawls up to kiss Stiles on the cheek, rubs the head of his cock along the crack, occasionally catching and making Stiles mewl, petting through Derek’s hair. When it finally sinks into him, Stiles cries. Actual tears.

The slow in and out motions take Stiles closer and closer, but he wants to take Derek deep, as deep as he can go, as many times as possible, wants Derek so close, there’d be no doubt, no room to question if they belong together, if this decision to stay together, be together, is right.

He wants Derek to fuck him senseless, wants to ride Derek until Derek won’t remember why he’d ever thought Stiles didn’t want him. He wants Derek to love him until the end of time.

Stiles flips them over, leaning over Derek’s chest with ass up in the air, his hands holding his cheeks apart as Derek begins to thrust up, rhythm building up faster and faster. Derek knows what he wants, hands gliding over to cover Stiles’, helping him to stay still and open. Stiles closes his eyes, burying his face in Derek’s shoulder, nuzzling and kissing every inch of skin before him, and focuses on Derek’s rasping grunts, uttered in sync with the slapping of his balls against Stiles’ ass.

Derek feels close and Stiles can’t stop himself, he meets Derek’s every push with one of his own until he feels Derek release inside him and he feels so full, so full, and he still wants more.

“Again,” Stiles whispers, “Derek, again again please please--ah!”

Derek tumbles them over, kissing and sucking on Stiles’ cock until he’s sobbing, grip solid around the base so Stiles can’t come. “Wanna get on your knees for me?” Derek hums against his cock, and Stiles mindlessly turns around and does as he asks.

He feels Derek’s cock lining up with his entrance and he lets out a whine, going low to high pitched as he glides in quick and easy and if he feels embarrassed, it doesn’t show, face and body already flushed deep red.

Stiles can’t help the choppy moans he lets out, knowing Derek’s going to fill him up full. Derek’s hands go from Stiles’ hips to wrap around his torso, leaning over to stipple kisses all along Stiles’ neck and shoulders and back, mouthing against his spine and making Stiles’ toes curl. Stiles’s breaths are short and fast and his brain doesn’t seem to be syncing with his voice but he manages to gasp out, “Derek--Love--I--love--do it--do it--I want--” and Derek quickens the pace, if that’s even possible, and with a final forceful shove, he comes and comes and comes.

And then, Stiles feels it. Derek’s knot grows in him and Stiles bawls, sinking as deep on Derek’s cock as he can, and it isn’t until it’s at its full girth and height that Stiles screams his own release across the mattress.

Derek lays them down on their sides,flinging his leg over Stiles’ and reaching down to cup Stiles’ sensitive cock, mouthing against the back of his neck. “Good boy, so good to me.”

Stiles squirms, he’s so full and his dick is tender, but doesn’t push Derek’s hand away, never wants to reject any contact he offers him. He shifts and groans, feeling the knot hitch against his rim, making him hard again, but before he can begin grinding to feel it against his prostate too, Derek tugs him closer and starts pumping his dick for him.

He thumbs Stiles’ slit, eliciting a few gasps and a shudder from him. Stiles loves this, loves that Derek knows Stiles’ favorite feeling is to be full with his knot, with Derek’s mouth on him. Stiles covers Derek’s hands, guides his rhythm along his cock and rubs his stomach. “Derek, so full, you fill me so full, right here.” Stiles moves his hand up to his chest. “And here.”

Derek huffs, kissing behind Stiles’ ear. “Who’s the sap now?”

Stiles doesn’t reply because Derek is so close and he never feels so complete as in moments like these where Derek makes these inane, innocuous little jokes. And he comes, a small gush in Derek’s palm, as Derek licks into his ear.

They lie still until they come down from their high, savoring the proximity.

“Just to let you know: Sex isn’t a substitute for a meal.”

“Did I not fill you up enough?” Stiles can feel Derek’s smile on the back of his head. “I could have sworn you said I filled you up so full right here.” He clutches Stiles’ stomach lightly enough that it tickles, making Stiles laugh.

“In every way,” Stiles says, “Except actual nourishment. You know we can’t eat till dinner now, thanks for that by the way.”

“That’s not my fault. You begged for it.” Derek smirks. “I think the neighbors almost called the cops.”

“Oh my god, we need to soundproof this room. Is there magic for that? Wait, I didn’t beg. Technically. And your dick was in me! I cannot be held responsible for things when your dick. Ugh, what are we gonna do about food? Crap, we forgot about unpacking!”

“Guess it’ll have to wait. Gee, I wonder what we’ll do meanwhile.”

“I don’t need your snark, wolfman, seriously, this bed doesn’t even have sheets and we--mmhmph!”

Derek’s tongue feels good in his mouth and he ruts into Stiles with a cant of hips and Stiles loses his train of thought.

Well, they’ve already made a mess. Fuck unpacking then.